Tonight I’d rather be anywhere but here,
In any dark hole or abyss
Tonight, to be away from this place I fear
Would in itself be bliss
Tonight I see the ghosts of sorrow
Walking through the walls of my room
Speaking to the ghosts of tomorrow
Warning them of impending doom
They come from the past, from experiences had
They know I shall fail again
History shall repeat itself and alas
The writing shall follow the pen
Tonight I’d rather be alone and out of grasp
(As if anyone were to come knocking at all -)
Tonight my only friends will be a flask
And the old music box by my door
Tonight I shall visit the medicine case
And rummage through the chaotic array
To find the yellows and the pinks and the wonderful grays
That could, from this place, steal me away.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem